


Vultures and Heirs

by ghxsts



Category: Fantasy - Fandom, Magic - Fandom, Monsters - Fandom, The Witcher inspired honestly, Wizards - Fandom, ladies - Fandom, lords - Fandom, prince - Fandom, princess - Fandom, witches - Fandom
Genre: Dragons, Dwarves, Elves, F/F, F/M, M/M, Magical Creatures, Multi, fox-girl sounds weeb I know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-18 22:20:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22167415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghxsts/pseuds/ghxsts
Summary: Ariadne, a simple court mage, prefers to watch events unfold from afar. However, a certain visitor comes and crashes the wedding ceremony to the princess she serves. Thus ending her decades of service from the shadows. Embark on a journey with Ariadne, Blanche, Helena and Rufus. Full of surprises, battles, and romance (because I admit, I'm a sucker for romance).Contains mature themes (swearing, sexual content, and because this is a somewhat medieval themed story (details aren't exactly 100% medieval), there will be gore). Read at your own risk.
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the generator sites for the names, cities and even the name of this book.

Dresses and suits sparkled as the candlelight reflected off the incrusted gems and jewels. Music blared around the room, competing with the thumping of feet against the marble floor. Laughter filled the hall amongst conversation. And like the previous 50 years, she watched over the commotion. Cool air filtered through the ajar window behind her, the see-through silk curtains flapping lightly in the wind. Ariadne sighed softly, smoothing down her emerald skin tight dress. 

“You’ve been doing this for 50 years, how can you still not enjoy them?”

“Forgive the harsh reality, but a party where men flaunt what little they have to impress women who will each fall one at a time for less? Witches and wizards may not age the same as mortals, but history repeats itself.”

“You’re so joyful, Ariadne.” sighed the princess. Aria hid a smile while glancing at the younger woman. Her blonde hair was curled and twisted, creating a beautiful braid that cascaded down her back. A crystal crown adorned her head, a matching set of earrings, necklaces and rings to match. Her beauty was nothing but natural, enhanced by the glittering sky blue dress she wore. 

“I’m always joyful. Just not for things that waste time.”

“Hmm. You sure look lovely in the morning when woken early. And your temper is even better.” laughed Helena. Ariadne snorted quietly, “Good thing this party isn’t for my hand in marriage, then.”. Her answer was met with a scoff, and a fluttering of fabric as the princess descended the stairs. Helena paused a few steps down. She turned to look up at her friend. 

“Come, old friend. At least try the salmon. I requested it for you, just the way you like it.” Aria smirked at the princess, and watched as the blonde turned to continue walking down the red carpet covered stairs. The witch followed suit soon enough, watching as the dancers came to a stop. The joyful music came to a halt, and the greeter announced the princess’s arrival. Aria watched silently as the crowd bowed, then followed the princess as she made her way to the throne. People parted, letting the women through, hushed whispers following them as they walked. And yet, the princess smiled to each subject. 

Lies, deception. That had caused her fathers’ head. Naturally, he wasn’t the one spreading the lies, or deceiving his people. His court pulled the strings, and in doing so, brought down the best reign the city Alenard. And so, for the last 14 years, the Court of 12 ruled Alenard and the surrounding cities in a rule that was left to be desired. Greed, unnecessary luxury, lust. They had all they could ever want, and even then they wanted more. Now in that sense, mages and humans were alike. In the 182 years Ariadne has walked the land, she met more mages that ended up destroying themselves through pursuing powerful, forbidden magic. Which, did technically belong to the elves, as did so much more before the humans took over. 

Once the princess was seated, Aria went to stand to the side, as to monitor Helena. And as if on cue, Aria watched a red-robed woman slid behind the princess’s chair. A dark snake shaped necklace glittered at the woman's’ neck. Fitting, considering who she was. Aribella Frances. Mastermind behind every move. Or was. Now that Helena was of age to take over, the elderly woman had no more say. She could only hope Helena would be stupid enough to bite at her honeyed words and follow her blindly. 

Crossing her arms, Aria continued to watch as Aribella discreetly pointed out potential lovers. It was rather funny, watching her do so. Of all the years she had spent trying to govern Helena, she had failed to realize that Helena had a...certain preference with her lovers. While her finger pointed at males, Helena’s gaze wandered to the females. Until their gaze met. A hidden smirk lifted at the corner of her mouth, and Helena threw her a dirty look, concealed by a lock of hair. 

Ariadne chuckled softly to herself and turned away. A hand grabbed her elbow, and she turned, ready to smack down whoever had touched her. 

“Easy there, witch.” deep green eyes stared at her through a thick mass of brown hair. Rough calloused fingers let her arm go, and his soft lips pulled into a genuine smile. 

“Rufus! I thought you weren’t coming?”

“Well, you know I wouldn’t miss a chance to see Lord Edmond make a fool of himself. Especially since he’s looking to remarry.”

“Ah yes. Speaking of which, how’s being his warlock of choice?”

“More interesting than I thought. At least I get to sleep with whoever I wish and whenever I want. I slip an illusional drug into his evening mead and while he thinks he’s charming and fucking whichever poor broad, in reality I get to have some action.”

Ariadne snorted, “You realize that if you get caught he’ll have your head?”

“He’s too drunk to even find his cock on the best of nights. I doubt he’d realize who I am in a line-up.”

The woman chuckled softly, running a hand through her silky black hair. 

“Can’t say I haven’t experienced it. Remember old Lord Anthony Merys? Was a miracle half the city didn’t become impregnated in the short time that he ruled.”

“Ah yes, bat-shit crazy Merys. What happened to the old fool?”

“Some nephew of his killed him. Ironically, the nephew got stabbed the night after. After that, I didn’t bother staying in town. All I know is that Lady Newdegate seems to be doing a good job, considering she’s been there for a few years.” 

“Hmm. Speaking of which, I need to head to Stragos. Symond owes me a few favors.”

“Symond Burton? Haven’t heard from him in decades.”

“And I wouldn’t count on hearing word from him anytime soon. He got into an argument with the archimage and refuses to speak with anyone directly in contact with the mage council.” 

“Eh, not a major loss. I never did like his attitude. Not sure what it was about him that made me want to stay away from him.”

“As I said, I wouldn’t worry about it. He’s old news and has been busy experimenting some very questionable spells.”

Ariadne chuckled, “That does sound like him.”

“Well, my delicate emerald. I do love your company, but I need to do some business while I’m here.”

“Let me guess. Getting into every married woman’s bed and leaving as if you never existed?”

“I wish, but no. In reality, I came here because I owe some coin, and I need information.”

“About?”

“A certain miss Blanche. I slept with her sister a while ago and heard some stories about this woman that I’d like confirming from the source itself.”

“Blanche, huh? Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Oh, you’ll know. Said to have hair as white as snow and always wears a hood.”

“Well, if I see her, I’ll let you know.”

Rufus gave her a warm smile, leaning in to gently brush his lips against her cheeks. Ariadne smiled softly back, watching him closely as he turned and walked away. A slight scent of peonies followed him as he walked away. Since the day the two met at the mage school, he smelled like peonies. And she had always wondered why that was his signature odor, considering it was more suited for females. Pulling her mind away from the thought, she quickly glanced at the princess who had got out of the vile woman’s lecture, and was talking to a lord. This made Ariadne frown. The lord had a thing for men, so why she was letting the lord almost  _ smother _ her was confusing. Well, the witch knew that while the princess was out of the court of 12’s grasp, she’ll be all right. And so, Ariadne turned her back to the two, and headed in search of that promised salmon.


	2. Chapter Two

The night was advancing well, if one didn’t count the few fights that broke out between minor drunken lords. Ariadne was slowly enjoying her third mug of ale, when she felt a presence at her elbow. Glancing over her shoulder, the woman froze. She’d recognize that charming smirk from anywhere. Slick brown hair that’s always messy, no matter how one tries to comb it. One blue eye, one green, and a voice that can calm the fussiest baby. 

“You-”

“Hello, sweet roll.” he purred as he tuned his lute. 

“You and your honeyed words.” the woman huffed, turning away as to not stare at the man in the eye. 

He maneuvered so he could stand in front of her, chuckling quietly to himself. 

“You haven’t aged a day, my sweet Aria.”

“And you haven’t changed a bit, Nathaniel.”

“People seem to find my… _ personnage... _ charming, so I keep it up.”

“Yes well, next time you get yourself into trouble, don’t come to me to get forget-me potions.”

“Well that isn’t very gracious of you.”

“Of all people,  _ you _ do not get to call me ungracious.”

Ariadne took a sip of her drink, hoping that it would end the conversation. 

“Drink up, little bird. Your night is far from over~.”

“Oh, do shut up.”, she grumbled, rolling her eyes. As he walked away, she could see his shoulders trembling, and knew he was laughing that infectious laugh of his. 

With a grumble, she downed the last of her drink, hiccuping a little. 

Thankfully, all eyes were on the bard as he had just started singing, ‘The Ballad of Stragador’. 

A good choice, considering this wedding was in the hopes of uniting cities and alliances together.

The song was about a young warrior named Stragador, whom the city of Stragos got its name. The warrior in question did indeed go to battles, slain his fair share of enemies, as all ballads go. However, the reason he got a ballad was that he was invited to strike down the king of the enemy. Instead of doing so, he sat down with the old king. Right in the middle of the battle field, they talked for hours, until the two finally stood, shook hands, and parted ways. After that, there had been peace between Stragos and Alenard. 

Fitting, considering Ariadne knew that Nathaniel wanted peace. But peace for him came with a twist. And that kind of peace wasn’t what the woman wanted. And so, she remained by the table that offered salmon, watching as the man she once loved danced and sang, charming the crowd. 

A round of applause was heard, and the princess stood from her throne. Silence fell upon the people and the music died down.

“I wanted to thank you all for coming from far and wide. I know it was quite a trip for some of you, so sincerely, I thank you. As you all know, tonight is the night I choose whom I marry. Of course, if I do not choose you, please do not take it as an insult.” slight laughter rang around the room, “On a more serious note, I believe I’ve made my choice. Lord Merrion, please join me.”

The lord stood, all eyes on him. He made his way sheepishly to the stand, taking the princess’s outstretched hand. Ariadne watched as Helena gave the lord a smile. 

“In ten days, I shall marry lord Merrion. Until then, we shall feast and celebrate like never before.”

The crowd roared drunkenly, cheers and clapping following suit. Ariadne doubted any of them knew why she planned the ceremony like this. Considering both of their interests in the opposite sex, by having a 10 day celebration there would be no bedding ceremony to attend too. Smart, in a way. It was with a sigh, Ariadne disposed of her plate, and headed to the balcony, having heard the rest of Helenas’ speech more times than she cared to remember. 

The flapping of the silk curtains followed her out the doors. Cool, crisp air greeted her, and she took a deep breath. Outside, it was nice and quiet. The chattering of the princess and the cheers of the crowd made nice background noise. Placing her hands upon the stone bannister, Ariadne let the cold stone ground her as she looked over at the well-kept gardens. Helena had a lot of pride in the gardens, as if the plants were her children. The thought made the witch smile. Soon there’d be little princes and princesses running amok in those gardens, born from parents who couldn't care less for each other sexually. Sad really, if one thought about it. But then again, not uncommon. Most marriages were for personal gain, not out of love. Born a woman, Helena has no choice but to marry a man who would be crowned king. Call it patriarchy. 

Turning her back to the gardens, the thoughts were pushed from Ariadne's mind, as Nathaniel stood before her. And that stupid smirk that made her want to kiss him plastered on his face. Crossing her arms, she stared at him in a disgruntled sort of manner.

“What.”

“No need to bark at me. I’m enjoying the air, just like you it seems.”

“There’s two other balconies to enjoy fresh air from. Why this one?”

“Because I get to have the pleasure of admiring the gardens with a beautiful woman by my side.”

“Shut up.” she grumbled, turning her back to him. A few moments later, she felt his presence close to her. Barely touching her, she could feel the warmth radiating off of him. Ariadne closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. Rosewater and lavender. He’d been busy hanging around Lady of Rist. 

“Aria…” he breathed out, his breath tickling her ear. She opened her eyes and turned, looking up at him. His mismatched eyes stared deeply into hers. And with a roll of her eyes, she leaned up, pressing her chest against his, her lips brushing against his. With a satisfied groan, Nathaniel kissed back, wrapping his arms around her. He could feel her melt into his arms, causing him to smile into the kiss. He had known her for a few years, and he couldn’t lie, that she was by far the most interesting woman he had ever laid with. Even came close to admitting having feelings for her, but that would’ve cost his head had his organization found out. The Bard academy specifically demanded that future bards not engage in romantic relationships, as that would usually cause a bard to drop out of the academy. In doing so, the academy loses potential decent players, and thus credibility. And he’d rather Ariadne believe he likes to have multiple partners, than her knowing about some stupid rule that could stop him from becoming famous. In reality, he really doesn’t enjoy having multiple partners, but he made himself a promise before he even knew the mage, and he couldn’t go back on that promise. Not until he proved to be a world known musician and face his family with his hard earned title. 

A snort of laughter pulled the two apart, and he whipped around to see a drunken couple stagger away laughing. Sighing softly, he looked down at Ariadne.

She was looking away, hugging herself once more. He knew him pushing her away hurts her in ways she never discussed, but he needed this for himself. 

“I’m sorry.” he whispered loud enough for her to hear.

“Are you now?”

“I am, Aria.”

“Nath...I know you know how I feel. We talked about it indirectly. You made your state of mind clear. I...I want you. In ways I feel too prideful to admit. But knowing there are other women in your life...I...I can’t do this. I refuse to end up the scorned woman who cries until you come back to me. Not to mention our life styles...”

“I understand.” He watched as she gently placed her hand upon his chest. Their lips met once more, but it was a sad and brief kiss. And within moments, she was gone. He turned, watching as she headed back inside. And he felt the loneliness hit him like a brick. Despite having almost reached what he wanted, no woman could take the place that he so desperately wished Ariadne would fill. He knew their life would be short, after all he was merely human. She would continue to live a long youthful life long after he was under the ground. Damned elves and their trials. To become a mage, one had to possess the qualities of magic wielding, and survive the transformation. Mages were a rare population, and even had their own island dedicated to them, if the elves should fall. And the elves fell, to their own kind. A civil war, if you will. There was a song about it, too. ‘The Battle of Belanore’ told the story of the elves who rebelled against the alliance set in place to help train humans their ways of magic. Long song, and not one for a wedding ceremony. 

“Here you are!” exclaimed a shrill voice, and Nathaniel glanced over his shoulder, his face falling in disappointment.

“Oh don’t give me that look, I know I’m not who you were expecting?”

“And would that be, my lady?”

“Why Brea, of course!”

“Of course.” he muttered, wishing they would call him back to replace the bard covering for him. No such luck, as often in cases like this.

“So, should I arrange a marriage for you? Quite the commotion last night, don’t you think? Had to stop my dear husband from barging in on you two!” the old woman laughed, causing the male to grimace. 

“I’m sorry my lady, but my break is up. We’ll talk later about the marriage arrangement, I promise.”

“Of course, of course!”

Nathaniel walked away from the woman, shuddering at the thought of being married to Brea of Rist. He had indeed taken her 'flower', after her insisting some stable boy had taken it beforehand. A lie that could cost him his life if the Rist family found out that he had no intention of marrying the woman. 


	3. Chapter Three

Her sword rang as she slashed it, striking down one  _ mort-manger _ after another. Sweat ran down her temple, her muscles aching and screaming in protest as she continued to fight. Mangers were vile creatures. Born human, they got a taste of corpse. Famine pushed them to eat the dead, until they turned into twisted, blind and ghostly-pale colored monsters. One could see the bones underneath their skin, red and blue veins laced across their skin. And the smell, bad enough to make anyone wrinkle their nose and turn away. 

With a yell of frustration, Blanche slashed down the last one. Her sword slid from her grasp, landing on the ground with a thud. She stood, panting as she gazed at her fallen foes. 1, 2, 3. All accounted for. Good. With a grunt, she picked up her sword, and sheathed it. Sweat continued to roll down her face, which she impatiently wiped away with the rough fabric of her sleeve. 

Had these annoyances not jumped at her, she’d be at the castle already. Rufus had asked for her to meet him at some marriage ceremony to discuss some formal matters. In her case, she hoped it was a cure for her... _ image _ . An enraged mage cast a curse on her when she refused to marry him. Since then, she’s been cursed with the features of a fox. Teeth, ears, and her eyes. Whiskers sprouted from her cheeks, but the worst was the tail. It took her weeks to control it, so it wouldn’t whip out in the middle of public. A real pain in the ass, if you would. She shrugged her cloak back on, making sure the hood covered her ears. Putting two fingers in her mouth, she blew, a loud shrill whistle resonating through the trees. Her ears twitched to the sound of hooves clopping against the forest floor. 

Her horse appeared among the leaves, and she quickly got up into the saddle.

“Hi-yah!” 

The horse took off, breaking into a gallop with a whinny. Blanche prayed she’d make it in time. Not that she didn’t make good money off the creeps who wanted to admire her foxish form, but it’d be nice to blend in with humans without being jeered at for not showing her face. Or more like when she does, they don’t run away in fear or try to kill her. Digging her heels into the horse’s flank, she pressed the animal on. The companion huffed in annoyance, but went faster.

It took them a while, but horse and master arrived at the castle, a steady stream of commoners filing out of the castle. Most wobbled on their legs, too drunk to really care where they ended up. Blanche slowed her horse to a trot, heat rising off the animal in the cold. It’s grey coat glimmered in the flames of the candles that light the way to the stairs. Once at the bottom, Blanche dismounted, handing the reins to a stable boy. She slipped him a few pieces of gold, muttering under her breath that the horse needed food and water, and one of the best stalls. As the horse got led away, Blanche made her way up the stone staircase, and into the castle. By the look of it, the party was ending. People lingered here and there, chatting and laughing. The woman paid them no heed, as she continued her search for the mage. 

“Well ‘ello there deary. Was a beaut like yous doin’ ‘ere?”

“Move it.” she growled, shoving past the drunkard. He stumbled, yelling insults at her as two men caught him, and put him back on his feet. The drunkard tried to follow her, and reached out to grab her arm, when she turned. She faced him, lifting her hood a little so her eyes were visible. It made him stop in his tracks, staring. He started to lift his finger, his bottom lip trembling, when she whispered and incantation. He instantly fell silent, his eyes fixed on her. With a smirk, she turned around, pulling her hood over her face once more. She stood there for a second, looking around. A woman appeared before her, indigo colored eyes scanning her, as if trying to recognize her. 

“You’re here to see Rufus?”

“Yes.”

“Follow me.”

The woman turned and stalked away, her green dress trailing after her. Blanche followed, keeping her head down so that the commoners would ignore her. The pair walked in silence, heels clicking against the marble floor. Strewn flowers laid on the tiles, in an effort to make the castle smell less musty. They went down winding stairs, along a series of hallways, and through one door, amongst many others. The woman before her came to a stop and turned to the cursed one. 

“Wait here.”

The woman turned on her heels and stomped her foot twice. With a whoosh of air, she disappeared. Great. She better be back or someone will have to pay. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for the woman to reappear alongside Rufus.

“Blanche!” he greeted joyfully, only to quickly double over, clutching his stomach. Blanche had punched him in the gut. Straightening up, she rubbed her knuckles.

“That, was for leaving my sister without so much as a good-bye.” she growled, her hood having shifted in the brisk movement to reveal her eyes.

“Okay, I deserved that.” he grimaced, coughing. “Ariadne, you can go.”

“You sure? Or do you need back-up to save your ass?”

“Just shut up and leave.” he grumbled, glaring at her. The black-haired woman smirked at him, before taking her leave. 

Sniffling a little, before wiping his nose on his sleeve, Rufus turned to look at the woman before him. 

“Blanche, I’m sorry about what I did to your sister. But duty calls above all things, even relationships.”

“I understand. Still, very much a dick move. Then again, my sister can be quite the dramatic one. Anyway, I’m here because you wish to see me. What about.”

“The curse. Or more the fruits, shall we call it.”

“Want to look at the freak? Mock, point, throw stuff at it?” she growled,

“Quite the contrary. I might have a solution to return you to a normal human.”

“Then do whatever needs to be done.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I have the solution. I do not, however, have the ingredients.”

“What do you need?”

“It’s not so simple. Come, and I’ll explain on the way.” He offered his arm to her, which she took. Air started to swirl around them, and with a blink of an eye, she was in a dimly lit library. Or what seemed to be a library. Books were everywhere. Some open, different letters, symbols, languages showing from the pages. Moonlight filtered through the dusty windows, different colors from the stained glass lit up vials of different colored liquids. But what stood out to Blanche was the smell. Peonies. And this made her frown. Of all things, why peonies?

“So Blanche, you were cured to look like a fox on the behalf of a vexed lord?”

“Correct.”

“Why was he vexed?”

“Because I refused his hand in marriage.”

“Hmm. Which lord?”

“Seymour.”

“Ooh. Explains why he chose a fox.”

“Excuse me?”

“His sigil? It’s a fox. Never seen it while you were there?”

“Can’t pay much attention to small details when he’s trying to have your head for refusing to marry him.”

“Ha. Good point.”

She watched as he gathered books, vials and herbs. 

“What are you doing.”

“You see, in order to clean up his mess, we need to return to the spot of where the curse was casted. Magical remains of the curse linger, and like any virus, you need a little of it to undo the illness.”

“You do realize they’ll have my head if we return there?”

“I do. Which is why we’re not going alone. You shall remain here for the next few days, while I gather people to accompany us.”

“Where will I stay?”

Rufus pointed to a bed, that thankfully looked freshly made. 

“This room is enchanted, and will give you all you need and wish. Just think about it, and it’ll appear.”

“Great. Thanks.”

“Hmm. Don’t be afraid to join the feast. There’s plenty left to eat and little people around to gaze at you.”

“I’m good.”

“Alright, well I’ll be in the other room. Call if you need me.”

And with a fluttering of his robes, he was gone. Blanche looked around the room, before setting her stuff on the bed. 

**Author's Note:**

> Considering that I came up with a lot of cities, and characters from said cities; if you want a copy of the map I came up with, please inbox me. I'll post it once it's more complete, but I'm filling the map as I go.


End file.
